


This Year

by velcroboyfriends



Category: American Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Berlin (City), Character Bleed, Day At The Beach, Dinner dates, Domestic Bliss, Drabble Collection, Dragon Dog Costumes, Drunk Texting, Furniture Shopping, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Queer History, Skiing, Sunburn, The Maine Incident, general happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5597317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velcroboyfriends/pseuds/velcroboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of 100-word drabbles inspired by events in our boys' lives this year</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Year

**Author's Note:**

> The structure of this fic is based around rekallthirteen's [2015 Flashbacks](http://rekallthirteen.tumblr.com/post/136335876449/2015-flashbacks) post. Yes, that means I wrote this fic today (well, yesterday) when it's due to be posted tomorrow (well, today). Oops? Enjoy :D

**January.**

Skiing, Richard has found, is a bit like prolonged falling. It scares him, if he’s being honest with himself, terrifies him to pieces, just like he’s always been scared of water, of change, of things out of his control. All he has between him and presumed death are two bits of wood and a couple metal poles in his hands. But he forces himself to do it anyway, watches Lee fall on his ass into a snowdrift, limbs splayed in a surprisingly unsexy context. Sometimes, he thinks, falling can be a good thing - it was when he fell for Lee.

* * *

Dolarhyde threatens to take him over, sometimes. At night it slips into his dreams, into dreams of dragons and fire and rending flesh, of the scents of powder and film and rice paper. He finds himself thrashing in his sleep, fighting the Dragon in his dreams, wakes up to find himself tangled in the duvet. But tonight, when he wakes from the terror of his dreaming, he sinks his face into the crook of Lee’s neck, snuffles against the skin and buries himself in love and warmth. Lee, sleeping peacefully, sighs and snores just a little and everything’s all right.

* * *

Richard has gotten very good at talking around the questions. It’s not because he’s ashamed or afraid of what giving those answers might be - it’s just that it’s not anyone’s damn business. And when he’s back in his hotel room after nearly getting lost in the winding streets and using it as an excuse to eat far too many baozi and sesame balls and bowls of noodles, when it’s just him, alone, with Lee’s smiling face talking through his computer (one of the few things he loves about new technology) he’s glad it’s just the two of them, alone together.

* * *

**February.**

Mackenzie and Richard immediately have the sort of bond that only two people who have kissed the same person can forge. It’s the bond he has with Anna, that Lee has with Daniela, a strange sort of physical common ground that bypasses initial awkwardness straight into giggled conversations about scruff and clammy hands and the details one brings up to bolster a friendship by finding a common person to mock. Lee takes the jokes willingly, squeezes Richard’s hand tighter, says “I never should have brought you here,” with the sort of glinting smile that says, “I’m so glad I did.”

* * *

**April.**

It’s hard, living the lives they live and trying to make them mesh together, when time at home together is better measured in weeks than months (sometimes better in days than weeks). The money doesn’t just help - it makes it possible, the trips out to visit each other. Richard has little other use for the money besides this, this making sure that although this is their last weekend together at home for a while, there will be weekends together in Ireland, just like there were in Toronto and Atlanta. They’re lucky, Richard knows, but he still cries at the airport.

* * *

RA: Does Carl wear Halloween costumes? I don’t know how I don’t know this already.

LP: when i can get him into them he does? so sometimes. ish.

why r u asking?

seriously richard why

RA: Do you want a dragon dog for Halloween?

LP: OMG FUCK YES I DO

where did you get it??

RA: Blame Bryan. His fault, all of it.

LP: shit now i owe him three favors

RA: Three?

LP: the costume

the shorts

the unblurred butt in the dvd version

RA: They’re going to unblur my arse?

LP: just for me

RA: Fuck.

LP: <3

* * *

**June.**

Sometimes, Richard thinks, Lee should really not be allowed to have his phone. Most of those times are when Lee is drunk, when Richard receives messy, typo-ridden messages, the meanings of which are difficult and sometimes impossible to parse. He loves the messages anyway, grateful that a sauced-up Lee is still thinking of him and his giant nose when there are guys with normal-sized noses out there who would jump Lee’s bones immediately if given a chance. And when he sees Lee in the list of ‘likes’ he knows it’s foolish, but loves it all the same.

* * *

Richard’s skin feels like it’s shriveling. He knows he’s going to look all ruddy and peeled later, that he’ll whinge about it until Lee gives in and smooths cool lotion into his skin. But he also knows that Lee’s hands will roam lower and Richard will grasp for him and his skin will hurt like hell with every movement but it’ll be worth it anyway. And it’s worth it now, lying in the sun with the man he loves, a man who’ll just get more lovely little freckles dotted across him, new spots for Richard to map later with kisses.

* * *

**July.**

Nothing could have prepared Richard for how tiny Kristin is. She’s like a little magical creature, the breadth of her personality and volume of her voice making up in spades for what she lacks in physical presence.

“How did they get you on the same screen?” Richard asks, because his eyes have to keep panning up and down just to have a conversation with her and Lee.

“Dark magic,” Bryan intones, and “Peach boxes,” Kristin chirps, the answers coming in simultaneously. To Richard’s right, Lee giggles infectiously.

“He’s lucky he found another tall freak,” Kristin says.

“I am,” Lee says.

* * *

**September.**

It’s a very nice table, and a very nice woman who runs the shop, and Lee looks extremely nice sitting at it, checking that it’s the right height for their lanky selves. The autumn leaves are nice, nicer than they are back home, and the smell of sea air is nice, and the scent of carved wood in the shop. But what’s truly beautiful is what the table means, the first piece of furniture that hasn’t been Lee’s or Richard’s, but theirs, theirs together. Richard curls his hand over Lee’s shoulder and looks at the shop keeper.

“We’ll take it.”

* * *

**October.**

It’s always a scramble for the check at the end of the night. They’ve got it down to a choreographed dance, at this point. Richard makes eye contact with the server, smiles at her as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. Lee thanks her and takes the plastic booklet, looking over the receipt. By this time, Richard has his card out and goes to slide it into the little pocket, and just as he does, Lee whips out his card.

“Thank you,” Lee says again as he passes his card to the server. He always wins. Richard tips.

* * *

**November.**

As they walk down Motzstraße, Richard can feel history around him. They sit outside a cafe where they order sweet rolls and dark, dark coffee that is more of an experience than a drink. Lee feeds him bits of roll, his fingers soft on Richard’s lips. He thinks of Christopher Isherwood and Charlotte von Mahlsdorf and the countless men and women and people in between who called this street home, called it theirs. Lee licks a bit of sugar from his thumb and Richard smiles. He is so lucky, he thinks as he leans over for a soft, sunlit kiss.


End file.
